Presents

If anyone is pondering what to get me for my birthday, this is awesome!
Patricia Walker is an amazing artist. Thanks to Dooce for the link.

Canine infedility

I love Dooce's dog!
I can never get Barry to wear things on his feet or balance things on his head.

Silly dog.

The good old days

I stumbled upon this article and was reminded of my own battles of having to clean up my room.

CNN - "Girl calls for police help over messy room"

Growing up, my bedroom was on the top floor of a Cape Cod style house. It was a big room, which meant that I had so much extra space to leave things: my clothes, books, tapes, and anything else a 13-year old know-it-all would have.

My mom was always on my case to clean my room, but I never saw the point because no one saw my room. It was upstairs away from any visitors. My mom didn't agree with my opinion.

One one particular sunny Spring day I ignored my mom's threats of 'throwing out my stuff if I didn't clean up my room.' Like what was she really going to do?

I was watching TV in the living room when I looked out the window and saw a pair of pants, a hat, a sock sailing by. I ran outside and saw my mom, with my bedroom window open, throwing everything that was laying on my bedroom floor out the window.

It was pretty humbling picking my underwear out of the azalea bushes.

Happy Birthday to me - Part 2

I was asked what I did for my birthday last night by one of my coworkers. We're casual acquaintances, not really close. But he's the kind of person who says hello to everyone and starts small talk.

I'm not that kind of person.

I find him slightly annoying.

Anyway, being that it was Monday night, and that I'm single, I didn't have anything exciting to day. And I don't know why, but I felt bad about that. Like I should have been flown to Key West buy my handsome, millionaire sugar daddy just to have cocktails on Mallory Square just as the sun sunk below the horizon.

But my life doesn't play like that.

Instead I went and bought myself a great birthday present. A new bike!

I was so excited to get my bike. A little bit of sticker shock because, man if you're not buying at Target or Toys 'R us, those things aren't cheap. I brought it home on my bike rack and immediately started pedaling around the parking lot to get a feel for it. I saw Barry looking longingly out the window, then I decided to take him for a run. I rode, he trotted alongside me.

After he got tired, I left him home and I went off wandering on my new wheels.

I love my new bike.

Happy Birthday to me

It's my birthday today. 34.

Notice that I'm not punctuating it with an exclamation point. As in "It's my birthday today! 34!"

It's feeling like a very Sixteen Candles like day. I feel like the entire world should recognize my special day and it would be something magical. But it's not. It's just a day where I have to go to work and pretend to be busy.

I'm not ungrateful, don't get me wrong. Saturday night I went out with my friends to dinner and a club at the shore. It was a lot of fun and I enjoyed myself. We even made friends with some guys, one of which asked for my number, but I was not interested in him. Whatever.

Then yesterday, even though I was suffering from a cold, I was with my extended family and they all sang me "Happy Birthday" with a cake and candles and everything. But even all that doesn't seem like enough.

Part of me expects to wake up to a perfect day, fresh fruit breakfast, a closet full of brand new clothes, and an entire morning of spa treatments. Then in the afternoon I'd explore inspiring places: art museums, Tuscan landscapes, turquoise beaches, Parisian sidewalk cafes. And in the evening I'd have a moonlight picnic with dancing and cheesecake. And all of this would be with my very own Jake Ryan.

What is it about birthdays that bring me down? I guess that in my head I have my birthday built up to ridiculous proportions. It's the start of summer, a chance for a new beginning, an opportunity to be something more than what I was the year before.

Like I said, I'm not ungrateful. I've accomplished lots: I own my own house, I'm working towards my masters degree, I've traveled and have more trips planned, I have a great and supportive family, I'm healthy and not physically repulsive, I'm smart and don't have to worry about where my next meal is coming from. So in the grand scheme of things, I'm pretty well off. There isn't much for me to really complain about.

Yet I do.

I think of the times I've said "I love you." Some I wish I could take back because it was just dumb and naive of me. But there are those special few where I really meant it. And one in particular who could still make my knees week if he was to come back to Jersey.

But I have to believe that I'll say it again -- and mean it. It will be my birthday wish. That and my very own Jake Ryan t-shirt.

PocketMod

This is awesome!

bubblehead

I hate being sick. For the past 4 weeks I've been sniffling my nose, coughing up phlegm, and using massive amounts of tissue paper. This is the week that I've acutally gotten congested. I want to drill a hole in between my eyes and let the green slime run out. Ah, the relief of an empty head!

I'm trying to be inconspicous at work. I've been coughing into my sleeve as to not spread (any more) germs and I've been using the Purell stuff consistently. But no matter how hard I try, I just can't be cool when I breathe out my nose and snot bubbles come out.

hungover

hungover
Originally uploaded by bearclau.

Sometimes...

I have to remind myself that I'm at work, where it's not appropriate to let out a loud, long butt-cheek trembling fart.

the voices are telling me to kill you

I hate cats, but this is pretty f'n funny.

Thanks to Reecie for the link.

she'll learn

My new coworker, the young one who "really knows her stuff", doesn't slack on the job. Ever. It's a little un-nerving.

I have a lot of different things slowly loading up on my to-do list. And I'm also behind on my homework for school. And yet I will still waste time on MySpace, reading my horoscope, reading blogs, catching up on my news.

The whole time I can her J typing away on her keyboard, writing the storyboards for the three courses she is assigned to, asking intelligent questions and having the perfect phone demeanor to the clients she is working with.

I can't wait for the day until she gets as uncaring and jaded as the rest of us here.

stupid

I'm feeling pretty stupid at work lately. Like right now. And the only thing I can do to combat this stupidity is to stare blankly at the document I'm supposed to be writing -- or blog.

I'm going to grad school online to get a masters degree in instructional design. What's that you ask? I didn't know until I came into this training department. Basically, an instructional designer develops training (courses) that are optimized for learning.

Why am I doing this? Well, I was hired in the training department to do administrative stuff. Pretty boring. I quickly branched out to teach myself how to use Flash and other tools that were used for developing training courses. I also watched what the instructional designers were doing and thought "Hey, I can do that". And in a moment of spontaneity, I enrolled in an online program to get my masters. It was a good thing, too because the workload had slowed and my manager needed to cut some staff. I stayed because I was able to expand my skill set.

So now I'm doing project management work for the development of a course for the SOX-404 Compliance Process. There has been a huge turnover in the people assigned to my project, so when I lost one of the instructional designers, I volunteered to write one of the sections of the course.

At the time I thought it was a brilliant idea. I would be applying exactly what I was learning in my grad school courses. But the real world rarely mirrors what is taught in school.

The content of the course I'm writing is dull. Financial information always is. I've lost the initial excitement and now I feel stuck. A new instructional designer joined the team last week and she is young, pretty and really knows her stuff. She is grasping the content and knows the route she wants to take to develop interesting and successful material.

I sit staring at the computer going back and forth over using "but" or "however".

I hate my job. I need a new career. Maybe a face-painter at traveling circuses.

l'optomist éternel

I took a much needed road trip to Montreal this weekend. I went with Josee, my now unemployed ex-coworker. She used to live there and was craving a get away. I had been there last year and wanted to go back and see it as a local.

I took off work on Friday and we did the 8 hour drive straight North in the pouring rain.

As I drove through the Adirondacks, the leaves were at their color peak. Even against a gray, dreary sky they popped.

"Wow! Look how beautiful the trees are!"

Josee never even looked up from her Marie Clare magazine. "Ugh. I've seen enough foilage in my lifetime."

Talk about being cynical.

a plea for inspiration

It’s been months since I’ve written anything. Even my journal has been feeling neglected lately. I don’t know why I’ve stopped writing, but I feel guilty about it every time I see my journal sitting on the dining room table while I lay sloth-like on the couch watching tv.

I write to let out mixed emotions. I think that putting them on a page helps me to sort them out. I write so I can remember moments. I write so I can leave a history of my life to future generations. I write so my brain doesn’t rot.

But I keep finding excuses to not write. I have nothing important to say. I left my journal downstairs. I’d rather read another chapter of my book. Barry needs to be walked. House is on TV.

I write when I feel like my life is in some sort of emotional deluge; when I am romantically confused, financially troubled, spiritually empty. But right now I feel neither of these, and the moments where I should have written my thoughts down are gone. To try an recreate those moments just to put pen to paper would come out fake and impersonal.

I hope to find the inspiration to write again. My soul depends on it.

Like he hasn't left

Multimedia message, originally uploaded by bearclau.

Say Cheese

Multimedia message, originally uploaded by bearclau.

Just another day at work

Multimedia message, originally uploaded by bearclau.

Pigtails!

Multimedia message, originally uploaded by bearclau.

Bitter Tears

If there was any time to wish for rain all weekend, this would be the one.

Barry Cottontail

Barry Cottontail, originally uploaded by bearclau.

Dope

Dope, originally uploaded by bearclau.

Dope

Girls Night Out

, originally uploaded by bearclau.

How much is that naked man in the window

, originally uploaded by bearclau.

Boyrfriend shopping

Why is it that the freaks find me?

Here is an actual email from someone off of Match.com. I have editied NOTHING:

I am micheal from kansas , i am a machine electrical engineer i have something in come on,...Honest, caring, loyal, and respectfull., i dont like to hurt someone's feeling and i will not like to be hurted also. i love to make one happy and cool. i think you are nice and good to know more of you maybe someday we can meet and know our self in person , i really need a nice one to spend the rest of my life time and be happy with somene that will be honest and real with me and no game playing . i will be very glad to hear from you.......

i love to meet u ,i love ur photo so much,When I look into your eyes, it seems all the problems in the world go away and I'm floating in mid-air,When I see you, the world stops as if the only purpose in life was for me to please you.I may not get to see you as often as I like. I may not get to hold you in my arms all through the night. But deep in my heart I truly know, you're the one that I love, and I can't let you go. really want to meet u, and you really look sweet to me like a river that flows through the windows of a barchelor.

U CAN ADD ME TO UR YAHOO MASSAGER LIST SO WE CAN TALK PLS or OR U MAIL ME TO THIS I D
[freakshow@insane.com]

--
Um, yeah. I'm thinking the prison he's in allows for internet time.

SWF...available

I don't know if I'm ready or not, but I'm doing this online dating thing again. Or at least I subscribed to Match.com. I haven't done any actual dating yet.

So many of my coworkers use Match.com and from what I hear they have received countless contacts and one person in particular had gone out on a bunch of dates - all in one day. What I can't figure out is: where are all my winks and emails? Not only on Match.com, but on eHarmony, Chemistry.com, Yahoo personals... why aren't I bombarded by the freaks and weirdos, with the occasional good-looking sweetheart thrown in. I'm not hideous and I think I'm a pretty cool chick. I think my profile comes across that way, too.

Maybe the cosmic forces are doing a hell of a screening job for me. Maybe they're looking for the person that I wished for.

But then, I wished for Pete...

Pete the Pig

, originally uploaded by bearclau.

daily mantra

As much as I want to ask all my questions, I have to remind myself that it just doesn't matter. He didn't choose me.

Angry Lepreachun

, originally uploaded by bearclau.

dorothy vs. the cowardly lion

Today's horoscope:

It's time to plot your own course instead of feeling like you're a victim of circumstance. You need to realize you have much more influence on events than you previously thought. Make your actions count.

So Pete's answer to that three month old question "What's going on?" is still "I don't really know." No surprise. The whole drive to his place I kept repeating to myself "He's staying with Sarah," so that when he actually said it, it woudn't be that much of a shock. I don't understand. I asked him if he was happy and he hesitated before answering. That shouldn't be a question that you have to hesitate before answering, should you?

So I'm sad, but more for him. He lacks the courage to step up and do what's right for him.

Where does that leave me? Deflated. Short-changed. But a little smarter because now I know even more what I'm capable of in an (almost) perfect relationship and more aware of what I really need from someone else.

In other news, within one hour I was contacted by two recuriters to see what I'm up to. One of them is from a company that I was dying to belong to last year. They are very close to me, have a great reputation and from what I've seen, a great working environment. I'm not sure if I want to stay as an internet project manager. I think I want to see this instructional designer career change out some more. (I am enrollen in my masters for it.) But it won't hurt to update my resume and see what they have to offer.

Here's to making my actions count.

A Pooping Story

I am a public pooper.

However, I will try not to expose any innocent bystanders with offensive sounds and smells. I'm considerate like that. I normally try camoflauge techniques -- my favorite one is waiting for a neighbor to flush the toilet and I release all my contents at the same time. The flushing hides the sounds of splashing.

Today, luck was not on my side.

I felt that familiar urge sitting at my desk and casually walked quickly to the bathroom. Both end stalls were occupied leaving the center one for me. I sat and waited for my cue, but one of those little buggers pulled a fast one and made a run for the border. Damn! It was sneaky and evasive, making hardly a sound, but it left a trail of vapors. I, being so close to the finish line, was treated to the smell and I wondered if it penetrated the stall walls yet.

Before I could send silent prayers of condolense to my neighbors, I heard the shuffle of feet to my left. The warning bell indicated that the flush was soon to follow. I was in position -- feet firmly planted, suit jacket hoisted high up my back to avoid any backsplash. When the FOOSH of the toilet started, I relaxed my body and let gravity take over. But to my horror, a fart escaped! I was made!

My eyes widened and I was thankful that no one knew that it was me crouched in my semi-private world. Then the silent giggles started. My shoulders started to shake and I had to hold my mardi gras beads to keep them from tinkeling and giving me away. By this time the flushing had finished and I lost my opportunity to mask my offense.

I took a quick look under the stall to my right and recognized the shoes as those belonging to my co-worker. I decided I couldn't take the chance of another escaping noise or smell, so I waited it out.

Finally, as the bathroom door slowly closed on her exit I was alone to do what was required of me. Five pounds lighter, I washed my hands, fluffed my hair and re-entered the work floor carrying the secret of the Phantom Fart.

thinking out loud

One of the perils of waking up early, especially when you live alone, is figuring out how to spend your waking hours.

Barry woke me up at 5:30 to pee, then again at 6:30 to eat and again at 7:30 to poop. There was no way to fall back asleep after that. We laid in bed together for a little while. I read my book and Barry stretched out on top of me, his little fuzz head resting on my chest with his expressive eyes looking brightly at me. "Are we going for a walk?", he seemed to say. Barry has these wonderful brown eyes that look as if they're rimmed with black eyeliner. I read a few chapters, I grew tired of laying in bed. The outside thermometer said 20 degrees. There would be no walk today.

For the next 20 minutes I entertained myself, and Barry, by playing hide and seek. He'srun downstairs and when I'd hear the click-clck-click of his toenals on the wood floor, I'd run and hide behind a door or a bed and wait for Barry to huff and puff around looking for me. I made such a fuss when he found me.

Now it's almost 9:00 and I'm making a mental list of the things I want to accomplish today. Get shelf brackets and hang shelves, check out the new library, dust. Sounds exciting. Maybe I'll go out to Starbucks just to sit among strangers and write in my journal while drinking hot chocolate. Maybe I'm becoming a recluse. I'm lonely, but don't want to be bothered trying to entertain friends.

My scuba classes are over until the first weekend of June where I take my open water dive for my final certification. My master's classes don't start until next week. It's cold outside and my psyche desperately needs the warmth of spring. Peter comes back tomorrow after a week in Cuba. I miss him less than I noticed him not being around. I wonder if that means that my optimism is fading. Or I'm getting used to him not being around.

I've been thinking about Peter a lot this week. More like I've across things that reminded me of him. I finished a book where the main character lives in Toronto, I went to see a movie that he had seen recently, I drove through Princeton, and he did send me an email from vacation where he said he missed me.

Oh, I feel so stale. I'm not doing nothing, but I don't feel as if I'm doing enough - with my life, that is. I'm just holding my breath for the next big adventure.

Welcome to Seattle

West coast

resurfacing

The words just haven't been finding their way out on to paper or on screen. I don't know why - it's not as if I have nothing to say. Lately, when I had something on my mind, it was directly related to my relationship with Peter and I'm comfortable enough with him to tell him, whether it be good or bad.

I'm in another of those moods where I'm not quite right. Where I just don't understand him, his indecisiveness, and my desire to be with him irregardless. But I don't want to talk about him today.

Let's talk about something else. Let's talk about my trip to Seattle this weekend.

Sam, my ex-roommate is heading there for work next week. She decided to extend her stay to include the weekend before so she can explore the city, and knowing that I have never been there before, she invited me to go. All I needed to do was get there. I bought my plane ticket within minutes of her giving me the information. I so need to get the hell out of here and get a change of scenery.

I bought a Seattle guide book and devoured it cover to cover. Some must sees are the Experience Music Project, Pike Place Market, funky Freemont and of course, the Space Needle. I don't make exact plans mapping out my entire weekend, but instead just have ideas and just let whatever happen happen. I find it much more exciting that way.

I also going for my Master's degree. I work in the training department doing administrative, reporting and logistic stuff - nothing too exciting. I see the courseware developers and instructional designers and think "I can do that!". So I signed up for online classes - my first one starts next month. My manager happened to see the brochure on my desk and asked me about it. It's a good thing he saw it too, because my co-worker got laid off a few days ago because of not enough work. We did the same job, but I'm convinced that I was the one who stayed because I'm taking the initiave to take classes in ID and teach myself some of the software to do the development. To my manager, having multi-talented employees is a huge deal, so I lucked out.

Finally, and this is the coolest part, I signed up for scuba lessons. I've been saying for years that I wanted to learn. A few weeks ago I just decided to look up the dive shops, price out the classes and enroll myself. I had my first pool session last week and I loved it! But I'm a very impatient student. I just want to DO IT, to skip past the learning process and just know how to do it right the first time. I already can't wait until my final open dive for certification. I want to glide around underwater among the tropical reefs and converse with the fishies. In my daydream, I look fantastic in a wetsuit, too. Ah well.

My final open dive will probably happen at the end of May in a lake in Pennsylvania. It will probably be cold, but I don't expect a carribbean trip happening before then. I will have to wait impatiently until then. However it does make a good arguement to arrange a tropical trip for my birthday to test my new underwater skill. I'll have to look into that...

In the meantime, I have an hour and a half to kill at work. Normally I'd chat with Peter, with my razor sharp wit and saucy innuendo, but I don't even feel like doing that. If he's not up to talking about what's going on with him, then why bother? I'm really not saying it in anger, but what else can I do? I'll most likely not listen to myself and give in to what my desires want me to do, but until then I'll be mopy and watch the clock until I suit up for the pool.

Its in the stars

Today's horrorscope, which is very fitting considering the stalemate with Pete.

Quickie:
They would never willfully mislead you. Give them a chance to explain their side.

Overview:
Sticking with the status quo is not an option, especially with your current take-no-prisoners mindset. You'd rather deal with any kind of change than what feels like your current stagnation.

LoveScope...
Daily Flirt:
Others might get rankled by your constant questioning, but don't give up on this curiosity-fueled quest. You have a gift for insight right now, and you'd be crazy not to use it.

Daily Couples:
The balance between intelligence and emotion is difficult to achieve, but at the moment you can apply your insight to your feelings with ease -- and get some excellent results. Let your sweetie in on the process.

Daily Singles:
Romance withers when someone is disloyal. Keep that in mind if a tricky choice comes up later today. No matter how tempting something seems, ask yourself if it's really worth the unpleasant consequences.

Instant Messenger conversation

Me: Trying new B.C [birth control] - since you really want to know
Pete: Other than the patch?
Me: Yup
Pete: Pills?
Pete: Injections?
Me: No. It's called 'my guy is going on vacation with his girlfriend'
Me: Ha!
Me: now THAT'S funny!
Pete: Yeah, that is... good one
Pete: damn you

Pyramid of Pachyderms

Have I mentioned how much I like work? Not my job necessarly, but the people I work with.

We have a lot of little toys around and when it get's especially boring, we tend to play. Mark, who sits across from me arranged his pack of pink pachyderms into this pleasing pyramid.

Not to be outdone, I have my own little trinkets of the strange...

First is my dolphin grabby-thingy

Then is my frog. He normally sits on the cube wall seperating me and Peter, with the frog's ass facing him. Pete was having some 'stomach issues' the other day, so to make him feel better, I put the diaper on the frog.

Finally is my little piggy friend who sits on my monitor smiling at me.

But because his butt also points towards Peter, he gets an extra special view...

Ahh... good times!

Happy 2006!

So it's the year 2006. I ushered it in with no fanfare, no alcohol, nothing of any celebration. I had pampered myself earlier in the afternoon with a cotton blossom scented bubble bath that lasted an hour. After my fingers and toes were sufficiently pruned, I lathered on the lavender lotion and laid in bed with Barry for about another hour. I had to rest up for the big evening I had planned -- sitting on the couch watching tv.

The weather was lousy, my family was doing other things, Pete was in Toronto and I really didn't want to be around people.

I watched "The Interpreter" with Nicole Kidman, ate a chicken wrap, played with Barry. As midnight approached, I switched on Dick Clark's Rockin' New Year's Eve and was saddened at Dick's hoarse and slow speech. He's not the eternal teenager anymore.

At about 20 seconds before the ball drop, I ran upstairs to get my sleeping dog, curled up under the bed covers. He opened up his sleepy eyes and let himself be taken from his warm nest. Like a baby, I held him with his head leaning on my shoulder and together we watched the crystal ball in Times Square drop to ring in the new year. On tv crowds of people cheered and hugged and kissed their neighbors. I hugged Barry. He yawned, licked my nose, and trotted back upstairs to his spot under the covers before it got cold.

I had no resolutions for the new year. I didn't bother taking the time to reflect on the old. I just turned off the tv, blew out the candles, and followed my loyal man to bed - the one who gives me kisses all the time, keeps me warm and makes me feel like the most important person in the world.

Fun with food

Grocery shopping has become more interesting when you have a cameraphone. Even strolling the aisles, Peter still pops into my head and I have to share our dirty little secrets.

John Cusack Soundtrack

Peter is a huge fan of John Cusack, as am I. So while I was still trying to get into his pants, I made this awesome mix CD of songs from John Cusack films. Feel free to plagiarize.

1. Infatuation - Rod Stewart - The Sure Thing
2. In Between Days - The Cure - Gross Pointe Blank
3. Like To Get To Know You Well - Howard Jones - Better Off Dead
4. When Will I Be Loved - Linda Ronstadt - Must Love Dogs
5. Wating In Vain - Annie Lennox - Serendipity
6. This Year - Chantal Kreviazuk - Serendipity
7. Within Your Reach - The Replacements - Say Anything
8. I Want You - Bob Dylan - Identity
9. If You Were Here - Thompson Twins - Sixteen Candles
10. She's A Lady - Tom Jones - Pushing Tin
11. Let's Get It On - Marvin Gaye - High Fidelity
12. Most Of The Time - Bob Dylan - High Fidelity
13. I Want Candy - Bow Wow Wow - Gross Pointe Blank
14. Falling In Love Again - Anika Moa - America's Sweethearts
15. Everybody Wants Some - Van Halen - Better Off Dead
16. Wouldn't It Be Nice - Beach Boys - One Crazy Summer
17. Pressure Drop - The Specials - Gross Pointe Blank
18. I'm Not Running Anymore - John Mellencamp - Pushing Tin
19. Under Pressure - Queen - Gross Pointe Blank
20. In Your Eyes - Peter Gabirel - Say Anything

land, dammit!

There's so much to say and I'll be sad that I didn't record it all down when I had the chance, but the only thing on my mind is that he's on the early flight and I can't wait for him to land. A week and a day. That's how long we've been apart, and I can hardly wait the 3 hours until he comes back to Princeton.

I'm smitten!

Two weeks

It's a mellow night. There's a howling wind blowing just outside my windows, but inside it's warm and cozy - Just right for being introspective, listening to Sarah McLachlan, Fiona Apple, and Jann Arden, and sipping wine.

Peter is on his way over. I like the sound of saying that. It rolls off my tongue so naturally, as if there was never a time where it wasn't true. Two weeks. That's all it's been since I was so brazen to ask him out for drinks after work. Since we talked for hours at the bar. Since I first felt his kisses... among other things.

Two weeks. That's all it's taken for this feeling of familarity, of comfort, of home to take place. A younger version of me would be frightened by how quick this is all taking place, but the 32 year old me is frightened for another reason.

Two weeks. Time that brings me closer to the end of the year where the chances of things changing drastically are more real. When Peter's contract could be up and he heads off to a new assignment, in a new state. Where I won't be able to see his blue eyes watching me. Where I won't be able to hear his laugh when I send him some risque IM message. Where I won't be able to feel his arms around me at night.

Time is my enemy and I will fight Him off as long as I can.

man vs. dog

Barry doesn't understand the concept of weekends. At 5:00 he woke me up with a whimper and a wet nose in my eye. He had to go out, and nothing will deter him from getting my ass out of a comfortable, warm bed -- with the scent of him still lingering in my sheets from the night before.

I trodded downstairs with only one sock on and passed the foyer where less than 36 hours earlier he pulled the ultimate cheese move and gave me his favorite sweatshirt to wear for the weekend so I wouldn't miss him so much while he was back home in Toronto. Sometimes I forget that he's 37 and not a puberty-infected teenager.

Barry pounded at the sliding door waking me from my reverie and I bent down to clip the lead to his collar. My sore hips made me grimace at the pain of overuse. But it was a good pain. One that could best be relieved by continual activity and he has so generously offered to be my personal trainer.

Finally done with his business, Barry came back inside and we went back upstairs to a bed that suddenly seems much bigger and emptier than the night before. Not even a fuzzy, snoring dog curled up in my armpit under the covers could take his place.

x's and o's

So awesome!

I was expecting him after 8, but around 7 I see his car pull up and I just giggled because that was always one of my childhood fantasies... where I would just happen to look up and he would be there coming towards me. So cheezy, I know.

So after all the emails that we were sending back and forth all weekend, when he got inside and I closed the door, told him "I guess this is long overdue," and pulled him in for a kiss. Such a good kisser.

It's funny because he's sitting right next to me, talking to a coworker about his weekend and all I can think about is just how soft his lips are. Mmmmm.....

We chilled out, talked, had some nervous giggles, and did more kissing. And the whole time I couldn't wipe the grin off my face.

Today I'm so tired. He wound up leaving at 9:30, so it's not as if he kept me up all night... yet... but I woke up at 2 am and just tossed and turned ever since.

Apparantly I'm trouble and I'm complicating his life ;) but he's willing to accept that challenge. I'm not sure where this will go, but for now, it fun, it feels right and I don't want it to stop. Those damn kisses...

I'm liking it

Sometimes the old me surfaces. Gutsy, confident, witty, get what I want me - and I like it.

Maybe it's because I feel like I have nothing to lose, or that I don't want to go through life with any regrets.

Or maybe it's because he can volley back the flirtations, innuendos and wittiness with such ease.

Whatever reason, this is fun.

head over heels

I haven't written much about work yet. The job is ok, the people I work with are fantastic. They're the kind of people who will celebrate your accomplishments, and laugh in your face when you look like an idiot. In essence, they're an extension of my family.

This morning I took the starring role of Lead Moron. It was still early and not many people had arrived yet. Josee and Mark were both sitting at their desk, a 3 foot cube divider seperating me from them. Andrea was sitting behind me, back to me. I was clowning around and pretended to recline in my office chair.

I must have pretended too hard because I tipped the balance and sent the chair, with me in it, flying backwards. There I was, in the chair, flat on my back, feet sticking straight up in the air. For a brief moment my face froze in shock, then I exploded into laughter. I just thank God that I decided to wear pants today. I would have died in complete embarassment if I had landed with a skirt pooled around my head and my ass shielded only by the thin strip of fabric from my thong.

There are times when you do something stupid and try to hide it, hoping that no one saw your blunder. There was no hiding my display, so I had to call the fullest attention to it. My laughter filled the area until I realized that Andrea was on the phone. From above I saw Mark trying to frame the perfect shot with his camera phone. "That's what we call in England 'freekin funny'!"

I was fine, the only thing brused was my pride. But there wasn't much to lose anyway.

Rubberhead

The sky had finally cleared up and bits of blue reclaimed it rightful place from the gray clouds. Barry was happily trotting next to me, sniffing rotting leaves and peeking under bushes for his nemesis, the rabbit. I had my iPod on, listening to the summery songs of Jimmy Buffett and walking in time to the tropical beat. The wind was beginning to pick up, the chill made my arm hair stand on end. Autumn was roaring in.

This summer had been particularly difficult for me. I was unemployed for the majority of it and the lack of funds and the feeling of uselessness made getting out of bed seem at times an act of futility. Barry, with his incessant sniffing at my closed eyes and licking the insides of my nose, was my alarm clock. His bladder made all of my lazy mornings irrelevant. But I credit my pursuant pooch with maintaining my sanity. By attending to his needs and succumbing to his unending wishes to play, he has kept me from the dark shadows of depression and self-imposed exile.

I noticed the little white fuzz-ball walking towards us before Barry did. A sweaty, balding man was crouched over, busy picking up his puppy's poop along the walking path. The tiny cockapoo was standing perfectly still, its black eyes standing out like small bits of coal. She was focused on Barry; him still oblivious, staring up the trunks of sapling trees, trying to figure out how to reach the birds hiding perched in the branches.



The cockapoo's high pitched yelp got Barry's attention and he was off running, stretching his retractable leach to the full fifteen feet and almost yanking my arm out of the socket in the process. Back and forth he ran, arcing left and right of the pup who was being dragged in the opposite direction from her owner.

Like David preparing to slay Goliath, I was turning in forward circles swinging Barry around like a slingshot at the end of his leash. His ears and tongue were flapping and his eyes never left the other dog retreating away. He never saw it coming.

Barry was making his third counter-clockwise rotation around me, when he met up with one of the sapling trees. The side of his head bounced off the narrow trunk like a rubber Superball. He stopped for just a moment to shake off his embarrassment and continued on his orbit.

I burst out laughing. I reeled him in to rub his furry head but he seemed completely unaffected by his trauma. For him, there was so much out in the world to discover than to be bothered by such a minor setback. Just shake it off and keep on running.

Funny, the things you can learn from a dog.

Good thing the donuts were fine

Fifteen minutes. That's how long it takes for the police to arrive to the scene of a car accident. I know because I timed it after I called it in.

I was on a grassy patch of land out front of my townhouse walking Barry. I was watching him circle around the grass three times, his tail pointing down, ready to take a dump when I heard the crash.

I looked up to see an Acura Integra stopped across the middle of the busy road in front of the entrance to my complex, not more than 100 feet away from me. It was blocking traffic from both sides. A Nissan Sentra was stopped, crumpled in the turning lane facing north. From the Acura I heard a frustrated "Aaaargh!" from the twenty-something year old punk in the driver seat. Doors slowly opened from both cars, passengers getting out to check out the damage. Traffic was building up on both sides of the road, impatient drivers maneuvering past the frozen cars.

I ran back to my house to call 911. I calmly gave the operator the town, street, cross streets and the landmark of the Dunkin Donuts directly in front of the accident. I went back outside to wait.

By now, the cars were both moved off the road and into the parking lots of the Dunkin Donuts and the adjoining gas station. Traffic was moving normally and a small crowd was gathered by each of the cars. People were on cell phones and a kid with a dog, I believe a passenger of the Nissan, were walking around the parking lot. The nosy neighbor that I am, I watched with Barry across the street and I waited.

Five minutes. Ten minutes. Where the hell were the cops? The town isn't very big and the accident was in front of a Dunkin Donuts for fuck's sake! I would imagine that the place would be swarming with flashing red and blue lights.

Fifteen minutes after I called it in, the police finally arrived. Satisfied with my civic duty fulfilled, I went back home to watch Law & Order reruns on tv.

Retail therapy

I spent Friday morning strolling through the mall, fingering the displays of crisp cotton button-down Oxford shirts and polyester blazers. I coveted the perfectly matched necklaces, dripping with amber and chocolate beads. With the promise of a real paycheck coming in weeks, I decided to celebrate my re-entry into the work world with a new outfit.

In my head, I imagined me juggling 15 different projects, holding a phone in one hand while signing an invoice with the other. Across my desk would be binders filled with project requirements, content decks and tacked to every square inch of my cubicle walls are gant charts detailing precisely when the creative would be approved and when the development would begin. And I would so look the part of pure professionalism: trendy tortoise shell glasses balanced on the tip of my nose, my freshly cut, newly dyed coffee-colored hair perfectly in place and my yoga toned body draped in a smart cream colored sweater set with charcoal herringbone wool pants.

With an exasperated sigh from a young mother struggling with her temperamental toddler, "Nooooo! I want chicken nuggets! Nooooooo!", I was heralded back into reality.

I grabbed the turquoise wrap sweater, the brown and cream paisley skirt and the three pairs of dress pants and took them into the unattended dressing room. In the reflection of the full length mirrors I was reminded that my hair sprung into unmanageable frizz with the impending threat of showers this afternoon, and my tank top kept riding up my body to reveal my belly roll exploding out over my jean skirt. Must. do. situps.

The sweater and skirt ensemble were fantastic, the blue accenting my tanned skin and showing enough cleavage to suggest an hourglass shape, yet still appropriate for the office. The skirt flared out enough to highlight my shapely hips but disguised my 'not ready for prime time' thighs. The military had camouflage fatigues, I had a-line skirts.

I took off the skirt, placed it on the 'Buy' clothes hook, and selected the smaller sized pants. The thinking that if I fit into these smaller sized pants, then the Weight Loss Fairy visited me as my reward for consuming Slim-Fast shake after another for the past 3 weeks. I put one leg in, and steadied myself against the white laminate walls while I stuffed in the other leg. The seams stretched across my thighs and with a big inhale I was able to zip up. Holding my breath I turned in the mirror to examine the calamity. Before I passed out from lack of oxygen, I pealed out of the pants and returned them to the 'No Fucking Way' clothes hook.

In defeat I tried the other pants; the one size larger pants. The zipper zipped comfortably and there was no pull of polyester across my crotch. The length was just the right height for a new pair of black heels and there was hardly any extra room in the waist. I craned my neck over my left shoulder to see the rear view in the mirror and I was satisfied. Yeah, these were my post-college size pants and yeah, I was much more comfortable in skirts nowadays, but these would also be my post-unemployment pants and that had a much more optimistic ring to it.

I happily added it to the 'Buy' rack, whipped out my credit card and strode confidently to the check out counter.

What next? Swarm of Locusts?

Maybe the Bible isn't all full of religius rhetoric. Turn on the news, read the papers and the signs of the apocolipse are almost as blatent as the South of the Border billboards on Interstate 95. American cities are underwater, contrete structures representing wealth and strentgh toppled like dominoes, people are closely tracked through credit card purchases and web clicks, and in Washington, the most powerful man in the free world lists idly by while his bretheren suffer and kill each other in the streets trying to survive, his forked tongue delivering lies to the evening news.

As if this isn't enough, bring on the plague. Mice infected with the bubonic plague are missing from a lab in Newark. The health comissioner says that they probably got eaten by other animals, or if they got out, are already dead, so the health risk is small. Yet the FBI and the CDC are both investigating. This brings me no comfort.

And for those newly graduated twenty-somethings who find themselves competing for entry level positions with thrity-somethings, they can always work for the Catholic Church as student exorcists. Apparany the need is become greater.

The Four Horsemen have mounted their steeds. The white and red horses march along the Potomic River and the black horse wades through the gulf coast. The pale horse laps gently at the waters of the Hudson, waiting patiently for his command to gallop west.

The universe answers

Oh ye of little faith, let me tell you of the wonders of the universe. Simply ask of it and it will provide.

I was walking down the street, just having come from the free jazz night at the State Theater in New Brunswick, still be-bopping in my head and savoring the taste of Corona still on my tongue. The air was still heavy with leftover rain and my hair was no longer following the rules of gravity. I was just at my car when I felt my phone vibrate. A surge of electricity went through my body because I knew that I didn't want to miss this call. I pulled open the string that held the top of my beach bag/purse closed and shuffled around keys, wallet, journal and finally came up with the phone.

I opened the clamshell. "Hello?" I put my finger in my other ear to block out the sound of the passing truck.

"Hi, Claudine? This is Joanie, I have great news! I just spoke with Chris and he was really excited to meet you. As you know, he'll be taking on more responsibility and he thinks you would make a perfect addition to the team. He want's to offer you the job!"

"That's fantastic!" A man swerved passed me to avoid me as I raised my fist into the air, in a half victory sign. I unlocked my car and sat inside so as not to potentially pummel other pedestrians.

I was simply gushing as Joanie was telling me the particulars, when I could expect to start, asking me some information to start the hiring process. Through her questions I kept thinking I can fix my air conditioner, put in custom closet organizers, finish the work on my floors, GO CLOTHES SHOPPING! Finally I can replenish my anorexic savings account. I wouldn't have to feel like the bum of the neighborhood, my car sitting idily by in the parking lot while the rest of my neighbors got up, went to work and contributed to society. I would be starting in 2 weeks. Plenty of time to shop, visit friends and feel euphoric knowing that my financial anxieties can be put to rest.

My backpacking trip around the world would be put on hold, or at least modified in time to traverse the continents one at a time. I would now have the choice to stay in a hostel rather than be forced to stay in one. I could indulge in my pwn private hotel room - with it's own bathroom. Oh, the possibilities are endless.

I know at the days go by and I'm closer to starting the new job, I will get those 'first day of school' jitters. Will they like me? Was that interview just a big put on? Will I get there and be told it was all a big episode of Punk'd? Aston Kutcher would come out in his sideways cocked trucker had and point in my face, "Dude, you are soooo punked! Ha! You should see the look on your face. Wave to the camera, it's over there. Demi, come on out, you have to see this!"

But as this is my daydream, I will punch Ashton in his jaw and leave his with his stupid Kelso expression, saunter past Demi, palm rased to her face in the 'talk to the hand' guesture and slide into my waiting convertible silver Mustang, give everyone the finger and peel out of the parking lot in a defiant squeal of burnt rubber.

breathe easier

The world can breathe easier today. After watching the ongoing updates on tv and the speculations from various media, there is finally some sense of completeness.

Britney Spears had a baby boy.

Universe, it's your turn

When it rains, it pours. And it's a friggin' moonsoon outside, baby!

I'm not talking all about the weather, either. I had a job interview today and I think I wowed them. But what was even cooler is that during my interview, my phone vibrated twice, the voicemail from two different recruiters telling me of opportunities that I would be a fit for.

My confidence has returned with this new wave of attention. After weeks of stagnancy, drowning me in the blahs, a current of capability has arrived.

This position is part project manger, part event planner for a training/education department for a big pharmaceutical company. I love it because I know I have the PM skills, and I sold them on my event planning experience - not professionally, but from my year as sorority president. Jason, the PM who is leaving and is interviewing for his replacement, said that the majority of the events that he has to plan closely resembles the sorority/frat functions. Score two for me!

It's also fantastic because part of the responsiblity in ensuring that the events are being put together as planned is to be on site. Chris, he director is off to England in a few weeks to oversee a training event. So travel is part of the job.

Now Chris and Jason have been very clear that this is a high profile position, often juggling may different projects at once, with priorities changing at a moments notice. It's very hands-on, and the use of Dreamweaver, Flash, Project is all required, all of which I know.

I feel very comfortable with the team members, we get along and I can see us working together as a team, which they emphasize the whole TEAM mentality. AND, it's only 15 minutes from my house.

I am so excited about this job. It's a great blend of stuff I know with new stuff that I'll have to learn. It combines organization, relationship building, getting my hands dirty and travel!! It's perfect.

I called my recruiter to let her know how interested I am in this position and how well the interview went. This feels like a great fit. The whole, short ride home I kept thinking how much I wanted this job. Now I leave it up to the Universe to let it happen.

A writing Exercise

They had nothing to say to each other. Each opened their lunches and spread out their meal in front of them. In the chatter of the school cafeteria the three ten year olds sat in exile.

Louis carefully unwrapped his cheese and bologna sandwich. He forgot to add the mayonnaise again and he grimaced as he swallowed it down. He was in a rush to get out of the house this morning. He didn’t want to be there when his mother finally awoke from being passed out on the couch all night. Louis knew that if she found him there, she would make him make her coffee, bring the Tylenol and rub her head until the headache went away, usually not until after noon.

Stan popped open his soda can; suds foamed over on to the table, his science book and on to his Spongebob Squarepants t-shirt, too small for his bulging belly. In one long slurp, he sucked up the spilt soda and wiped his mouth with his arm. Stan pushed his entire peanut butter and jelly sandwich into his mouth and chewed it like a cow chews its cud, crumbs falling, jelly stuck to the side of his face.

Emily hung her head down towards her French fries but her eyes were on the popular girls’ table. She envied the way their long blond hair bounced when they laughed and how their glitter nail polish flashed in the fluorescent light. Emily looked at her own bitten fingernails and quickly hid them in her lap, silently willing the bell to ring.

Radar Ears

I wish I knew what Barry thinks about when I take him for walks. I can't see his eyes to see what he's focused on, but I can tell when he's on to something. I call it his Rabbit Radar and it's all in reading the action of his ears.

In relazed mode, his ears point to the sides, flap flap flapping along. Both ears droop over and when he runs in a playful gallop I wonder if those ears will give him enough lift to actually get him airborne.

Barry turns the radar on his ears face forward. He is in tracking mode and is intent on searching for something to chew on - a used piece of bubble gum or an inattentive bird. Anything will do. With something in sight every muscle tenses and from my vantige point I can even see the pusling of his butthole below his stubby white tail. His pace quickens and his ears are in full frontal flap. He has spotted a pile of leaves that resemble the ears of a hiding rabbit.

Oooh the elusive fucking rabbit, Barry's sworn enemy. When we pass a patch of bushes or the edge of a wooded area Barry is on full alert because he knows that's where they love to hide. Sometimes the rabbits are smart and stay pervectly still. Barry never notices them. But in one sudden rabbit movement Barry's ears turn and face all the way back for chase mode and he takes off running trying in vain to nab that puffy white tail.

To watch the chases is like watching a ballet with a prima ballerina and a hippopotamus. The rabbit has delicate movements and can switch directions with prescission. Barry thunders behind with inertia on his side and has to take wide and lumbering turns to keep the rabbit in sight.

The floppy tips of his ears flutter behind his head like Superman's cape. He is in The Zone and no amounts of me chasing after him yelling "cookie! cookie!" is going to get his attention.

Soon Barry tires out, the rabbit disappears into the bushes and Barry trots back to me, ears flapping, tongue hanging and his eyes bright and excited as if asking "Didya see that, Mom? I almost caught him! Didya see it? Didya?"

I laugh and scratch behind his radar ears and toss him a cookie, a well deserved consolation prize.

more daydreaming

I was walking with Barry this morning, something that I’ve been doing regularily for a week, not only as a requirement for caring for my dog, but to get me exercising. We walk to the park near my house and do two laps around the walking path. I bring my iPod and listen to the random rotation of whatever songs are saved there. In between a Jack Johnson song and a Fiona Apple song, my mind started to wander.

I daydreamed of me having yet another adventure trhough Europe. I saw me flying in to Dublin, Ireland with nothing more than a backpack full of my laptop, digital camera, journal and versitle comfortable clothes. I would stay in hostels and get from place to place by train, bus or ferry. I would visit the green country side and have my meals in Irish pubs. I’d make friends with locals or other travelers and send emails of my adventures to stay out of London and explore the smaller towns along the way to the English Channel where I would take the Eurorail through France and into Italy where I would explore the amazing art in Florence, Rome, the Vatican City and down to the heel of Italy’s boot and hop over to Greece.

I’m getting distracted. I’m looking at maps of Europe and surfing women travel sites for appropriate things to wear in countries that I’m interested in.

I can imagine the blue of the waters and the white houses lining the cliffs and so much a part of me wants to throw my things in a bag right now and start this trip.

I have a tendency of packing too much. From what I read, only a few articles of clothing are necessary, and they should be lightweight cotton. A long, knee to ankle length skirt is a must. In many religious areas showing too much skin is a taboo. Don’t wear shorts, tank tops or white sneakers lest I be immediately labels as can American tourist. Long sleeve button down shirts and dark sunglasses are a must have, as are comfortable walking shoes. I know I would be walking everywhere, so this is a necessity. A large scarf which could be used for covering my head and neck in more conservative areas as well as keep off the hot sun. Leave the jewelry at home and heavy makeup is not recommended.

Oh how I want to see the world! I want to see the Turkish bazaars and the Taj Mahal. I want to see the safaris of Africa and the Australian beaches.

Once I had the idea that I could rent my house while I travel, a huge weight lifted from me. I wouldn’t need to sell my home that I love so much. Just let some other family live here for a year, paying my mortgage. Maybe I’d sell my car. I could always get another one when I get home. I’d add my mom to my bank accounts so she could pay whatever bill I get while I’m gone. I don’t even feel afraid at the thought of traveling alone. As I learned on my road trips, more opportunities seem to happen when I’m solo.

Looking around my home I see so many things that I want to clean out, pack up or just get rid of because it would lighten my load and thus make my emotional state much more calm. It would mean that I’m one step closer to making it very easy to start this journey.

So many other people have done it, so I can too. Meeting Debbie on my trip through Spain was such an inspiration to me. She did it alone, going from Ireland to Greece in about 2 months. It inspired me. This is something that I have to do.

dreams

I just signed up for the travel writing class. I hope it's not full and that I can participate.

I also got this idea in my head. One that has me excited. If I land a contracting position for a few months, it will allow me to pay off the credit card and take care of some minor improvements around the house. Then I'll rent my house and take off for a trip around Europe or where ever the wind may take me. I'll take my laptop, camera and a backpack. It sounds so adventerous, so romantic. So... so me!

I'll have to let this fester for a while.

I will...

1. Sign up for the travel writing class on Writers.com.
2. Write short stories about the ridiculous events in my life and use them as the springboard for the novel that's inside of me.
3. Not back down on my salary needs or proximity to my job.
4. Continue to exercise regulary, even if it's an hour walk with my dog.
5. Love myself, even though I am in the process of improving me.
6. Make good eating choices, and not pick at crap because I'm bored.

Open letter to my friend, Skim

Yoooouuuuu!!!

I haven't felt real compelled to write much lately. Go figure, I have all the time in the world right now, you know - with being unemployed and all - and I don't have the motivation to record the daily events of my unexciting life at the moment.

But your latest entry about Tommy Lee does allow me to comment. This past Sunday I went to see Motley Crue in concert at the PNC Bank Arts Center in Homdel, NJ. Musically, they rocked. Vince Neil sounded great and even though I had lawn seats, I didn't sit once. They played all the songs that I wanted to hear: "Girls, Girls, Girls", "10 Seconds to Love", and of course, the crowd sing-along, "Home Sweet Home".

I was as rock-star as I could get away with - Denim skirt, black halter top, studded belt and a black bandana wrapped around my wrist. I was definately NOT trying to copy my 14 year old dirtbag wannabe persona, but I might as well have some fun with the night.

I was having a great time although I wondered when the hell did I start getting old. I'm no prude by any means, but I found it a little disturbing when every other word out of their mouths was Fuck. "Hey you mother fukers, we're here to rock your fucking ass off! Woo hoo! Fuck yeah, New Jersey!" Then with the addition of the porno clips on the video monitors and the "titti-cam" that Tommy was in charge of during one of the breaks, I was feeling embarassed for them. Sure, they were rock stars who were notorious, but now they were middle aged dads who were still acting if they were 22 years old.

All the guys in the band were heavily made up, too. Not all glam like as in the 80's, but with heavy base makeup to hide them. Mick Mars was looking like the Grim Reaper, Nikki Sixx has this freaky red face paint made to look like a masquerade mask over his eyes and Tommy just looked like he had on a white clown face. These boys were looking old! I missed the hair and the scarves, the gloves and the leather. Sure they looked like hot women, but they could kick your ass. Hell, Nikki even died with a heroin needle in his arm and he's still banging up Fender guitars at the end of a show. Leaving the show I thought that I would have enjoyed it much more had it was 18 years ago.

woof

Being a dog is so fucking easy.

Right now Barry is tearing all around the house, upstairs and down, with a plastic soda bottle crunched between his teeth. He shows no sign of stopping even though we just came back from a 45 minute walk, IN THE RAIN.

Funk You

I’ve been no stranger to rejection in my life – college applications, softball team, lovers, and financial loans. I’ve also had my share of job rejections, but the wound was torn open, a lemon wedge smashed in and salt thrown on top. If only it was a margarita I could drink away the pain.

I was just informed today that the remaining hope of a new job was given to another applicant who had more experience in the search engine optimization field and would be able to hit the ground running. But I will be kept in mind if another position opened up where they had time to train me or if they hear of a project management position from any of their colleagues. Sigh. Now it’s back to square one.

I am so filled with desperation that sometimes I have to fight to keep from crying, but sometimes I lose. Yesterday at a neighbor’s wedding I teared up, not just because it was a wedding and that’s what you do, but because I saw this girl who I used to babysit, standing there looking beautiful and so happy in her white gown, her whole life ahead of her full of possibilities. In contrast, I was alone, jobless, more flabby than I care to think about and getting more and more depressed about the future state of my financial affairs. How long could I afford to be out of work? Would I have to take a severe paycut from my previous jobs? Would I have to go back to waiting tables? Would I need to sell my house? Do I have to move back in with my parents? The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to cry.

I am lost and scared and I don’t know what I need to do. I’ve been sending out tons of resumes through Monster job boards and I think I’ve exhausted scouring the yellow pages for nearby agencies. I look for free methods of entertainment. Last Friday I went into Princeton just so I can hear the live bands that perform outside of Thomas Sweets. I visit libraries instead of buying from Barnes & Noble. I cook instead of eating out and I can’t allow myself to buy anything that isn’t absolutely necessary. The unemployment checks don’t cover my mortgage and the monthly bills so I’m forced to take out of savings and that bothers me. I know that’s what the savings account is there for, but it feels like I’m unraveling the threads of my security blanket. I can’t even enjoy the fantasy of taking off and escaping it all because the cost behind it takes away any enjoyment.

Barry has been my only comfort. He’ll lay next to me and lick my face as if to tell me that everything will be all right. He’s my main reason for waking up – so he can go out to pee. I even look forward to his walks because it means that I’ll get out of the house for some exercise and sunshine. Plus, I’m always on the lookout for a handsome man walking his dog who I can casually meet.

I need to get out of this funk. This miserable experience is affecting my mood, my health and quite possibly my chances of employment.

Just checking in

Over a month later and I'm still unemployed. It's quite discouraging and I'm really getting into a bad funk. The NYC interviews didn't work out and really, I'm relieved. I have no desire to want to work in the city. I'm still working on a job only 6 miles from my house. I've had two interviews there and I really like the place, people and the position. I really hope this works out.

When I'm not at home spending time with Barry, reading or watching tv, I've been visiting my friends and staying at their homes going to the pool and beach.

My writers block has come back and I've lost the motivation to write. Until next time...

If you're not here raise your hand

I've been back from my road trip for 2 1/2 weeks and I haven't been able to bring myself to update here. I've hardly been writing in my journal either. Sigh. Being at home unemployed with no one but Barry keeping me company is getting to me.

I've had a few interviews in NYC that went well, or so I thought. Apparantly not well enough. That's ok, I guess. I wasn't too keen in working in the city. The commute would break my spirit.

I just came back from an interview this morning. It's at a really small agency that's right down the road from me, only 6 miles. It seems really cool and I know I've done well so far because I was asked to come back for a follow up meeting. Right now, the only thing that could put a thorn in the whole decision process is the salary. We haven't talked money yet. That should be interesting.

It's 106 miles to Chicago, we've got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it's dark and we're wearing sunglasses.

I got notice last Wednesday. Due to budget cuts, the consultants were being let go. My last day would be July 1.

My road trip looks like it will begin July 2.

This time, instead of heading south to Key West, I'm going to take I-80 and head west to Chicago, Chi-town, the windy city. I've never been there before and I figure 'What the hell'.



Here is my proposed route, starting with Cleveland and a quick stop at the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. I was there a few years ago, but I loved it so much that I thought that it wouuld make a nice first stop. It's about 8 hours away from home and about all the driving that I should do in one day.

bad hair day

bad hair day, originally uploaded by bearclau.

I don't know what's been up with my hair lately. It just doesn't want to play nice. My bangs have gotten to doing this wierd curl thing. I tried parting on the opposite side today and there's no difference. It just swoops around and falls directly in front of my eye. Not attractive.

so close

The utter contempt I have for my job is overwhelming. I was on the edge on insubordination on the phone today with my manager. I know it, and I have to make deliberate attempts to knock it off.

I think she knows what I think of her.

Yee Haw!

Last Saturday I went to the rodeo with Annie and her friend Ellen. Silliness ensues.

Yet another reason why I hate cats

I say let the fuzzy fuckers burn!

Ole!

I would pay anything to see this!

The Smarter Species

Proof that dolphins are way cooler than some people I know.

I do weird things

How ridiculous am I?

I just sent a letter (a real US mail letter) to my ex-boyfriend from 8th grade completely out of the blue. I googled him and found his address, so I figured 'what the hell'.

It was very nice..."How are you, what are you up to, just wanted to say hi" kind of letter. I wonder if he'll reply.

ouch!

I have just witnessed that speaking solely for the sake of speaking doesn't necissarily make you look like you know what you're talking about. Sometimes silence shows wisdom.

When the client says to me straight out in a meeting, "I trust you.", over the business managers on both project teams, it means a lot. If I was my manager, I would have taken that harshly.

gripe, gripe

I'm not as concerned about being out of a job than I am about being bored in my job.

I think I mentioned this before, but when I started I was feeling overwhelmed with all the looming projects I was walking into. This was all based on my manager's description of what she was responsible for. That was about 6 weeks ago.

For the past 2? 3? weeks I've been going insane, not because I'm overworked, but because I can't find enough for me to do to keep me occupied. This 'mountain' of work that I anticipated when I started? I think my manager was exaggerating. And I don't even think she realized it.

I am juggling 5 different things going on, and it's all manageable, mainly because the items that I am directly responsible for haven't hit yet, or my deliverables are staggered at different times. I can tell you what's going on now in any of the projects and I have all my information organized and easily accessible. I'm not saying I'm Super Project Manager or anything, I just multi-task pretty well - as long as I'm interested in what I'm doing.

My manager however, is a different story. I actually feel sorry for her. I see her as a scared puppy dog sulking in a corner because she accidentaly pooped on the rug. She seems to be flustered when I give her updates on the current projects and she's trying to be an active participant in them, but there are more times when she's just in my way than actually being a befefit to me.

It's very weird. I don't want to absorb myself in a job. All I want is to come to work in the morning, do my job and be productive, and then leave it all behind when I go home. I don't want to sit here all day staring at the computer; have to teach my boss about the project/process/technology; or play secretary.

And to top it all off, I don't have a permanent place to sit. I've been moved to two cubicles, I have another set up in the 'bullpen' - a small space shared with 5 other people! If I actually have to sit there, I'll be wedged between two foreign developers with their elbows literally in my ears. When I get back from vacation, there'll also be a new person on the team, an intern. I want to know what the hell is there for him to do? There's hardly enough for me to do.

Enough griping. I'm on vacation in three days!

Where's Barry?

Barry is not a fan of the vaccuum cleaner. As soon as I click it on, he's slinking away under the bed or in the corner. Last week I went to look for him and found this familiar shadow behind the shower curtain.

iLove it

It's here! It's here! My lovely new iBook is waiting for me at the FedEx distribution center. It tried to get to my house, but being that I work, I was not there to accept it.

So now I have to go through another long-ass boring day with nothing to do until I can go home, let Barry out to pee and drive through congested streets to FedEx so I can pick up my nirvana in a box.

iWait

I've been tracking my order of my newly purchased iBook. It left China this morning and is on the way half-way around the world to me. I just hope it gets here before next Saturday because I'm outta here!

People think I'm wierd to want to bring a laptop with me on vacation. It's not as if I plan on spendind the day laying out on the beach surfing websites. I want it so I can edit my video tape while I'm still there, and have a complete vacation DVD as I step off the plane when I get back home. It's all for fun.

BFF?

I leave for vacation to Punta Cana in one week. It will be a mega-vacation on an all inclusive resort with 22 of our closest friends and relatives. I have a feeling, that even if it rains the entire time, we will still have a good time.

Except for the one thing that is weighing on my mind. Part of this 22 person group are my old idiot friend, Dave and Brian. If you don't remember Brian, let me refresh your memory.

I haven't spoken to him since then, about a year and a half. So much has happened since then; Jim is gone, I own a house and a dog and I'm basically in charge of my own life. I don't know how he and I are expected to interact. I have no ill feelings - I could get right back on to our 'Jerry / Elaine', 'Rachel / Joey' friendship without any problems or baggage from the past. The only problem is that I don't know how Brian will be.

So I sent him an email. I was direct, to the point, but witty. Now I'm just hitting refresh on my Yahoo account to see if he responds.

11 little things

Oh how the time is going be ever so s..l..o..w..l..y.

I'm in a cranky mood today and I'll tell you why.

1. Barry woke me up at 5:00 am to go out and pee
   
2. Barry woke me up again at 5:30 am to go out and poop. I know it was to poop by the intensity of him licking my face. He had to go out. NOW. I ignored his urgent licks the other day and awoke to two perfectly formed turds by my front door.
   
3. Barry woke me up again at 6:15 am to eat. Fine. I was now officially awake and able to do my yoga stretches to ease my stiff lower back.
   
4. I have nothing to do at work. My manager is out of the office for the next three days, so at least I don't have to try very hard to look busy. I answer an email, I make a phone call, and my to-do list is done for the day.
   
5. I went to my car to take a nap. I woke up after an hour hot and sweaty.
   
6. My lunch sucked. I had a buffalo chicken sandwich with too much wing sauce. It was too hot and the wing sauce and blue cheese just dripped out of the bread all the way down my wrist.
   
7. It's nice outside and I'm in here, dressed nice in work clothes, thinking of all the fun things I could be doing with my time instead of sitting in a cube.
   
8. Someone brought their kid in today. This kid wasn't happy. He screamed and whined in the office right behind me. The office door was opened and the piercing scream echoed inside my head. I got up to walk away, anywhere else but there, but no matter where I walked in the building, all I heard was that kid screaming his head off.
   
9. A woman in some office somewhere was having a phone conversation - by speakerphone - with the door open. I HATE speakerphone, especially when it's used out of pure laziness. Pick up the phone lady, I have no interest in hearing directions on how to get to Dunkin Donuts.
   
10. I can't even find something intersting to distract me online. I was looking as various blogs, and accidentally came to analteensex.blogspot.com. Oops.
    
11. My pc crashed and the main hard drive couldn't be saved. Oh how I can't wait to get my iBook.
    

To The Dark Side

I have just purchased an iBook. Being from a PC background... all the way from the Radio Shack TRS-80, I am quite stressed on this life altering technology platform shift.

There were several reasons why I decided to turn to Mac:

1. I had an urge to make a major purchase
   
2. I wanted to bring a new electronic toy on vacation
   
3. I wanted to play with video editing more
   
4. My Dell crashed
   
5. My birthday is coming up and I wanted to buy me a present
   

As soon as I clicked on the 'Buy' button, I was excited to get my hands on a new toy, a pretty wireless laptop that I can play with video editing to my hearts content. But I also got worried...what if my mac doesn't play nice with my PC? Will I get them to network? Will I get so enamored with my mac, that I forsake my PC and have to buy new Photoshop and Office software? What if my newfound freedom from wires and the Blue Screen of Death will encourage me to quit my job and become a world traveling adventurer, documenting my journies through photo and video? What if I spend years on the road in exotic locales, missing my family and friends grounded in the US? What if I live out my fantasy of people watching on street cafes and walking through ocean surf at sunset to the carols of tropical birds? What if I become an expatriot living in the caribbean?

What if my iBook doesn't come soon enough??

Poop

Day in the Life - Morning doo, originally uploaded by spappyjones.

This may gross some of you out, but I find dogs pooping one of the most funniest things in the world. The way they hunch over and make a face.

This isn't my dog, but it looks just like Snuggles, my family dog when I was in high school.

My feet stink

I never wear stockings with my shoes, so as the day goes on, more and more sweat collects in my shoe, thus making my feet stinky. I normally kick off my shoes for comfort and to give them some breathing room, but I have to wonder if the smell wafts over these cubicle walls.

In other news, today is Cinco de Mayo. 05/05/05. I think I need to make myself some strawberry margaritas at home. Pit stop at the liquor store for some tequila!

21 again

What a fun weekend! It started Friday night in Deleware.

I rode down by myself - I was meeting up with Brian, Melinda & Andrew and Andrew's college friends. Andrew graduated from U of Deleware so it turned into a reunion for him.

It took be a while to find the hotel. The directions I got online sent me in the wrong direction. Finally I got to where I needed to be and hung out with Brian in the lobby while we waited for Melinda & co.

We all got ourselves together and went out to the first bar - I forget the name, but it was off the main strip. All of us - about 10 of us, got some pitchers and took over a table. That's what I missed the most about school, the college bar prices.

At about 11pm Melinda, Brian and I walked to Jen's apartment to pick her up so we could go out. When we got there, Jen relized that she doesn't have her drivers license! The first words out of her mouth wasn't "how am I going to get in the bars?", but "I've been driving around without a license!".

What a nerd. Jen is the only one of us cousins who never got into trouble. If she had a fake ID like the rest of us, this wouldn't be a problem. While Jen went out to her car to see if it was in there, we made videos making fun of Jen on Brian's cell phone.

We decided that we were going to try and get Jen in using her license renual paperwork. Jen was really nervous because they card hard there.

We walked to the Stone Baloon which was just down the street and stood on a crazy ass line. By the time we got to the frint, it was 11:56pm. We said to the hot bouncer, "Ok, here's the situation..."

We told him how we drove for three hours just for Jen's 21st brithday and she lost her license, but here's her renual stuf, blah blah blah. He took one look and said "Ok, just hang out by the side for 4 minutes." So at midnight we entered the bar to celebrate.

We had a good time people watching, drinking 24oz $2.50 Coronas and $2 shots. Andrew was completely hammered and eventually blacked out and didn't remember anything.



The bar closed at 1am, so we mingled around outside at the curb for a while. We watched 2 guys knock down a garbage can across the street and yelled until the cops pulled them over - to the cheers of us across the street. I took a picture of one of them with his hands on the hood of the cop car. After he was let go and the cops left, Mr. Tough Guy knocked over another garbage can.

Andrew was beligerant and could hardly stand up. His friends were doing sumersalts on the grass. It was college revisited.

We stopped back at Jen's place. Melinda had to bring Andrew back to the hotel becuase he was such a mess. Brian and I hung out a little while longer, then stopped off at Dunkin Donuts before walking back to the hotel.

Andrew wasn't in the hotel room when we got back. When he did get in, he passed out, fell facr first, on the bed next to Brian and me. Whatever.

I woke up later in the night when Andrew got up to use the bathroom. I couldn't tell if he was peeing on the floor, in the tub, or where ever. Regardless, something was up and I didn't want to know what he was doing in there. I heard Andrew leave and got up to see what kind of trouble he was getting in. He was lightly knocking on his friend's door.

I had to go to the bathroom, but I went down to the lobby. I left with Andrew standing in the hallway. I came back to him standing in the same spot.

When Andrew finally came back in the room, I told him to pass out on Melinda's bed, not mine. He did, fully clothed, with his shoes on.

Oh yeah - sometime during th enight, Brian, Melinda and I entertained ourselves for 10 minutes making farting noises with our mouthes. I don't know why.

The next morning we went to breakfast at the diner - after we took wrong turns all over campus in the pouring rain. No big deal. I was driving. At the diner we left a note in the guestbook for Jen's birthday and took off for a jacker for Melinda.



We finally ended up at the mall where everyone bought at least one thing. Brian found a cool Rincon Beach hat in Abercrombie. Weird.

Later we went to Jen's apartment. Margie and Willie came up for her recital and brought dinner.

It left not long after dinner. I was meeting The Quad in Philly to see "Tony & Tina's Wedding", but that's another story.

Blue Man Dorks

Last weekend, my family went to see Blue Man Group in Manhattan. It was such a crazy, fun time!

daydreaming

What a long day this will be. My manager is out of the office at an offsite meeting. I'm sitting in a cube not knowing how long I'll be here; I'm supposed to be movng into the 'bullpen', a community cube shared by 4 other people. I've caught up with the things on my to-do list and I don't even think there is enough around to even give the illusion of being busy.

It's Friday, no one is around me and it's deathly quiet in this office. I have iTunes playing, but at almost whisper level because I don't know how far the sound will carry. I have a feeling that even the keyboard clicking is echoing off the walls.

Today will be a day for an extra long lunch hour - maybe at Barnes & Noble. I have an urge to shop and now that I have a paycheck coming in again, I know that urge will be satisfied very soon. I've been keeping a new digital camera purchase at the back of my mind. I have that trip to the Dominical Republic coming up, you know. I wish it was the end of May already so I can hop on that plane for a week of lavish nonsense.

One of my proudest moments

On the evening of my 21st birthday, I was visiting my sorority sister in Stone Harbor, a cute beacy-trendy shore town in New Jersey. Sam had been spending her summers here for years so she had tons of local friends. We spend the evening in the Snickers Bar and I had my customary 21 shots. Somewhere around shot 9, I had a bad Kamakasi experience and went into the bathroom where I projectile vomited into the corner of the stall. I think I was more amazed with the distance I covered than the fact that I pubiclly threw up in a bar bathroom.

Like a movie shown in fast forward, the rest of the evening was a blur, until I was finally and safely sleeping on the couch of Sam's beach house. Then the stomach rumbling began.

In the middle of the night, I went into the bathroom, dropped trow, and had a moving experience. I felt my body relax as it rid itself of all the toxins I had consumed of the night. There was something odd about it all though. Oh well, back to bed.

An hour or so later, sitll in complete darkness, I sprung up out of my sleep like a vampire rising out of the coffin. "What did I just do??"

I went into the bathroom and with complete hesitation, I turned on the light. There, staring at me, laughing, was a perfectly swirly poop ---- in the sink! "OH MY GOD!!!" I wrapped my hands in toilet paper and scooped out the massive turd into the toilet. It tooks several trips and many more handfulls of toilet paper to clean out the sink.

After I hid any evidence of my masterpiece, I went to the couch and went back to bed, never to tell Sam what had happened in her bathroom for 6 years.

Let's Get This Party Started

Finally!!!

I have started working again and I am so relieved. I was anxious about it the weekend before, not knowing if I remembered to do the stuff I said I could do. Now, sitting at my desk, I remember everything and am even more anxious to really jump in and do stuff.